


Partners

by fanextraordinaire



Category: Who Killed Markiplier
Genre: Blood, Detectives on the case!, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Haunted House (?), I haven’t decided yet, I’m down to add it in tho, Markiplier Manor, Maybe Tythan?, Minor Characters Death, More tags to be added, Murder, Only if y’all are cool with it, Precious Friendships, mild PTSD, mild depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-11 03:25:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15963698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanextraordinaire/pseuds/fanextraordinaire
Summary: Joanna Cruse has worked cases for years, from thefts to mass shootings.What made this job so different?





	1. The Manor

The sound of multiple gunshots were heard at around nine in the morning.

The victims friend, a teenage boy named Michael Boldin, looked up sharply as the sound rang from the old mansion. Michael placed the phone occupying his hand and put it in his back pocket, quickly running his tan hand through his curly hair. He stood up from the steps and approached the house, watching his shaking hand as he placed it on the rusting door knob. The door creaked as it was forced open, even though the door was easily opened not even five minutes earlier, eyes locking with one of the armor set to his left, before entering the abandoned manor.

The manor was, to put it bluntly, huge. Many years ago, it might have looked like a castle, with cobblestone walls and large metal gates surrounding the entrance. However, over the years, the manor aged like a sci-fi movies special effects from the fifties. The cobblestone had moss grown over each brick, some appearing to be charred with fire (most likely from that crazy party some years back). The gates had rusted so badly they basically snapped at a gentle touch (the reason why the two teens were able to get in in the first place). The trees that might have once shielded the house from prying eyes now had branches sharp as knives, waiting for the next unlucky soul to climb near them. The windows were cracked and some had dark red stains on the corners, which from a distance appeared to be blood splatters. These appeared, not only on the windows, but also on nearly every stone and brick.

No wonder everyone believed Markiplier Manor was haunted.

The boy creeped in, calling out to his friend. Michael paused for a moment, praying to every god out there the his friend answered. He walked in further after hearing no answer. “Max, this shit isn’t funny.” Michael huffed, loosening his posture to appear more confident, hiding the fear eating away at his stomach. A bright light flashed at his face, causing him to jerk his hand over his eyes. He huffed yet again, walking to large staircase to find the source of the light. He stole a look at the knight’s armor to his left before ascending the staircase, causing it to groan with each step.

Every noise he heard caused him to quicken his pace ever so slightly. Every shift in the shadows caused the ringing in his ears to increase subtly. Every step he took caused the house to grumble with anticipation, as if awaiting its next meal.

On his way up the staircase (Jesus, how big was this staircase?), he caught glimpse of the source of light. It was Max’s watch. The one Max never took off, the same watch that was the last gift his father ever gave him.

And there it was, placed delicately on the railing on the staircase, with the smallest of blood splattered on the face.

But Michael didn’t notice.

Instead, he shot out his hand and pocketed the watch, finally feeling the liquid on his hand. He didn’t want to believe it, so he pretended it was leftovers from the drinks they were having earlier and continued his trek upwards.

His posture was noticeably more rigid than before.

When Michael finally did reach the top, the fear was no longer just eating at his stomach, but was also burning every nerve, causing each heartbeat to constrict his chest, making it impossible to breath. He searched each room as quickly as possible, never once seeing the old blood staining the walls, never sensing the screams that haunted the house, and never once hearing the cries, pleading, it was an accident, I swear. He concluded that his friend had left through a window, as one of them was open, and ran down the stairs as quickly as his legs could take him.

Michael finally reached the bottom, where he could practically taste the freedom the open door brought him, showcasing the clear, sunny October day casting light in the hallway. His relief was cut short, however, when a crash of thunder and lightning struck through the house and a deafening thud sounded from the fireplace.

“Oh, I’m so going to fucking regret this later,” Michael whispered to himself as he turned on his heel, bracing himself for the scene about to unfold at the fireplace. His feet moved painfully slow as his mind tried to go over each possible outcome. Maybe his friend knocked over something heavy? Maybe Max passed out from fear of this place? Maybe he was…

Michael didn’t want to think about that.

He merely took a breath, closed his eyes as he turned the corner, and finally revealed what this house had in store for him.

No amount of preparation could numb the feeling of dread when you see your best friend, your ONLY friend, laying face down on the carpet, blood slowly leaking from his painfully relaxed body as you’re helpless to do anything to stop the fluid pooling and staining the carpet and you’re memory forever.

No amount of bracing could dull the intense sickness in your stomach, the pain in your chest, and the weakness in your joints when you see your friends cold, lifeless eyes staring helplessly into yours, begging from beyond the grave for you to save him, to help him, please, it’s so Dark, I’m scared, please help me.

No amount of horror movies could prepare you for the stench of rotting flesh, or the look of absolute fear on your friends blood-splattered face, or the holes littering your friends corpse, especially when you knew he deserved a better way out, another way to go, to be able to grow old with friends and achieve his dreams.

No amount panic could amount to the feeling you get when you look down at yourself, seeing your friends blood on your hands, with a loaded gun gripped tightly in your right hand, the taste of blood lingering in your mouth as it drips down your face, antagonizing you with each drip, drip, drip.

And no amount of horror games could ever equal the fear in yourself when you feel your cheeks stinging, and as you bring your hands up to your face only to realize you were 

SMILING.


	2. The Victim

Joanna Cruse drove along the highway, listening to the nervous sounds coming from the new crime scene investigator at her left.

The kid was humming a song while rhythmically tapping his fingers against the door of her car, messing with his dark hair with his free hand. Joanna glanced in his direction, noting the slight nervous look in his eyes and his fidgeting feet as they pulled up to the crime scene. She parked the car and sat, calmly watching as the kid took a deep breath, unbuckled, and reached for the handle. She locked it as he pulled, causing his head to quickly turn towards her.

“Look, kid-“

“My name’s Ethan.” Joanna shot him a look. “Sorry.”

“Look, Ethan. You don’t need to be nervous. You passed the training with flying colors! You’ll do great, trust me.” Joanna shot him a lopsided smile as he looked away, faintly blushing. She put a hand on his shoulder, drawing his attention back to her. “You’re the most qualified apprentice I’ve had in the 10 years I’ve been mentoring. Trust me.” She squeezed his shoulder before exiting the vehicle.

Ethan sighed, exiting the car not long after his “boss”. She’s right. I shouldn’t be nervous. He ran a hand through his hair before grabbing his equipment and entering the closed-off building. 

The smell hit Joanna with an intense force when they entered the room (Ethan got lost a few times, but Joanna quickly corrected his course), causing her to instinctively scrunch up her nose as she approached the fireplace where the body was laying face down, covered in an off-white body sheet stained with blood. Joanna and Ethan greeted the officers at the scene and grabbed a pair of disposable gloves before ducking under the blaring yellow police tape. Ethan kneeled next to the corpse and looked up to Joanna before taking a breath and uncovering the dead man.

The body was in the middle of livor mortis, with reddish discoloration on the side of the face and arms currently visible that were laying flaccidly on the ground. Rigor mortis was also just beginning to set in, with each joint slightly stiffer than a recently deceased body would be. Ethan went rigid at the sight, before taking a breath and setting done his equipment to begin his examination.

After nearly an hour of his camera flashing, sounds of wet clothing being shifted, and officers chattering behind him, Ethan finally finished his examination with a dumbfounded look on his face. He started talking, pointing to various parts of the body as he mentioned them. “The body has obvious discoloration around the jugular and cervical vertebrae, as well as blocked airways and a broken hyoid bone. The victim was killed by an outside force.” Ethan paused, causing Joanna to believe he was finished.

She started to ask a question about motive and who was with him, but was cut off by Ethan again. “However, it wasn’t the hanging that killed him.”

Heads turned in disbelief as Ethan’s face flushed, greatly disliking the amount of negative attention on him as the other officers murmured confusedly. Joanna’s voice silenced the officers. “What brought you to his conclusion?” Her voice wasn’t condescending or angry, just genuinely curious. Ethan looked back to the body, ignoring the burning glares from his coworkers wanting to be over and done with this case.

Ethan removed the sheet further from the body, showcasing the leaking wounds in his back. “Well, you can see a total of thirty-seven lacerations in the shoulders and back. However, these wounds would have killed him in one-to-three minutes which would have caused him to lose fifty percent of his blood.” Ethan quickly moved his gloved hand under the body, lifting it up slightly. Blood oozed out of what appeared to be multiple gunshot wounds.

“If he lost that much blood in one-to-three minutes, how is it that these wounds are bleeding so much?” Joanna thought about this for a moment, unable to come up with a reasonable answer. Before she could stop him, Ethan continued. “Also, look at the blood near the center of the pool and surrounding his mouth.” He pointed to a part of the blood around the body and face. “Notice how the red is relatively lighter than the rest. And, the skin of the victims arms and neck are unusually pink, which is a sign of cyanide poisoning. Based on the bloods length away from the body, we can guess the kid was poisoned after he was stabbed thirty-seven times.”

“But Ethan,” Joanna quickly cut him off, glancing to the pathologist on the scene who was frantically searching through his notes, before looking at Joanna and hesitantly nodding. She brought her hand up to the left side of her chest before continuing, “How is it possible for him to have died from the stab wounds, then be killed by the poison?”

Ethan looked at her in complete amazement in his discovery. “But that’s not even all of it.”Joanna’s brow furrowed in annoyance as Ethan continued his spiel. “We found traces of water in his lungs, and his face has a bluish tint, signifying that he drowned.” Joanna rolled her eyes in disbelief.

“Come on, Ethan, you can’t seriously believe this kid died four times in one night?”

“All the evidence points to it! And,” Ethan ushered Joanna over to him and lifted the victim’s shirt, showing the bodies back covered in bruises with pieces of bone sticking out of them, “he appeared to have been beaten to death with a bat as well. So, the final report of the deceased, in order, would be thirty-seven stab wounds, cyanide poisoning, beaten with a bat, strangling, drowning, and gunshot wounds.”

Joanna abruptly stood up, stepping over the yellow police tape. “That’s impossible! There’s no way he could have died that many times! There has to be some kind of actual explanation for this.” Joanna started pacing across the room, trying and failing multiple times to fit the pieces together. Ethan stood up and bent under the tape, walking to Joanna. He was about to tell her that maybe he got something wrong when a boy around Ethan’s age walked into the room.

“I didn’t mean to, I swear.” 

Joanna snapped around, swiftly pulling her gun out of her police duty belt and pointing it straight at the boy who just entered. He stood there, a lost look in his eyes and a gold pistol held loosely in his left hand.

“LAPD, put your hands in the air.” Joanna’s voice was stern and unwavering, causing the boys eyes to snap to hers.

“I… I’m a murderer.”

A crash of lightning struck the house, causing the officers in the room to jump in shock and the boy to drop the gun in fear.

“I killed my best friend, didn’t I?”


	3. The Interrogation

The arrest was quick and simple, with no resistance from the assailant in question.

The trip back to the department was quiet enough, with only the sporadic sobs of the teenager in the back and the near-silent music playing from the stereo.

However, the entire case made zero sense to Detective Cruse. The culprit made no move to stop the approaching officers, instead staring at the wall with a confused glaze over his eyes, trying to not look at the corpse. He didn’t even seem to believe that he could have ever killed anyone, let alone the victim, his best friend. He seemed just as surprised about the deceased as anyone else, and he didn’t show signs of being mentally unstable or even having murderous intent. He just seemed like a lost kid, stuck in the middle of something he had no control over. The evidence all pointed to this kid being the killer, from the gun in his hands, to his flat out confession to being a murderer. 

Joanna Cruse had worked on cases for years, from thefts to mass shootings.

What made this one so different?

The answer to her question was currently sitting in front of her, staring blankly at the metallic desk separating the two. The handcuffs on the desk were fit securely on his wrists, tight enough to keep him from escaping but not enough to leave marks on his skin. Joanna couldn’t help but feel bad for the kid.

He looked so upset during the arrest he could hardly walk. Once he finally glanced down to the spot his friend was, his eyes had remained on the body the entire time he was in his eyeline, and when they moved him out of the house, he started bawling so hard he practically had to be carried to the car.

Now, with all his emotions having drained him, he looked like the shell of a man, holding no contempt or anger or sadness or joy, merely jolting at the slightest of sounds and chanting, “It was an accident,” each time someone new entered the room.

Joanna stared at the kid, attempting to keep her gaze as soft as possible as she brought out the case file. The pictures, courtesy of Ethan, told the story of the killing on its own, no extra notes necessary.

“Your name is Michael Boldin, correct? Born October 11, 2000?” Joanna relaxed as Michael paused his mantra, settling for nodding in conformation. “What were you and your friend doing at the Manor, Michael? You know the property is off limits to civilians.” Joanna watched as Michael tensed upon hearing the word “Manor,” his breathing picking up slightly as he swallowed exaggeratedly.

“My uh… my friends had dared us to spend a few, um, a few days there.” Michaels voice was so quiet and small, Joanna has to lean in slightly in order to hear correctly. “Um, it’s a, uh, it’s a tradition at our school that when a student turns, um, they, a few days before they turn eighteen, they’re dared to spend a few days before and after their birthday in the, um, on the Markiplier Manor estate.” Joanna nodded in complete understanding, writing down the reasoning to the victim being there.

“Then why were you there Michael?”

Michael let silent tears flow as he swallowed thickly and spoke. “Ma- my friend and I were born on the same day. That’s how, um, that’s how we became friends in the first place. We, we planned our whole friendship on spending that week in the Manor, talking constantly about how we’ll survive the uh, the ghosts that live there-”

“Ghosts?” Joanna interrupted, quickly glancing down to her older notes on the Manor case. Previous trespassers had never mentioned anything about ghosts, only the usual creaking of the old house or strange, out-of-nowhere lightning that sent them running from the house into the arms of the awaiting officer.

Michaels sniffling halted, eyes finally moving from the table to look at Joanna with a confused glare in his eyes. “Yeah, have you never, never heard the uh, the rumors?” A shake of the head sparked a strange excitement in Michael. 

“Everyone says that Markiplier Manor is haunted. People say they’ve seen these two people inside, walking past the windows and such. They’ve even said they’ve heard gunshots and shouts coming from the house. You know, we uh, we actually saw the two ghosts, but just for a second. It’s, it’s the main reason why we’re, why we’re dared to spend a week there. It’s not only to prove that you’re not a wimp, but also to prove that the ghosts are there. Max,” Michaels voice cracked, “Max and I were going to be the first people to spend the whole week there, but…”

Joanna had perked up upon hearing the information of two people inside the house. ‘Possibly two suspects’ had flashed through her mind, causing her to furiously scribble down the new facts in the case file. She looked to Michael who was looking at her in confusion. She quickly clarified her surprisingly happy demeanor.

“You said there were two people inside the manor previously. If we can talk to them, we may be able to prove you’re innocent.” Michael was too shocked to answer, whether from happiness of being proclaimed innocent, or the fear of Joanna getting hurt. 

Joanna quickly nodded in farewell before exiting the interrogation room, leaving Michael to the arriving officers. She walked briskly past the GIS room and into the crime lab where Ethan and his partner were examining the photos the former took at the crime scene.

“Ethan!” Joanna’s shout grabbed both of their attention, Ethan quickly turning all the way around while his partner and Joanna’s good friend, Tyler, merely nodded in Joanna’s direction with a small smile and went back to examining the work.

“We got a new lead on the Manor case.” Ethan approached the homicide detective. “The suspect says that at the time of the murder, there were two other people inside the house.”

Ethan scrunched up his face, turning to Tyler who now had his full attention on Joanna. Ethan looked back to Joanna, who was now in full Detective Cruse mode.

“What does that mean for us?” Ethan’s voice was full of worry, almost as if he knew exactly what she was going to say.

“It means we have to go back to the Manor.”


	4. The Intruder

This was a terrible and extremely stupid idea.

Luckily for the ones stupid enough to be in the car with him, Ethan voiced this concern of theirs multiple times on the way there. Joanna constantly attempted to calm his nerves, telling him that it was fine and that the people there were probably just trying to scare off intruders, which would silence Ethan for exactly three minutes at a time before he brought up another group worry.

By the time they arrived at the Manor, the worry was laying so thick it was choking the three passengers. Joanna parked the car in front of the rusting gates and took a breath, steadying her deafening heartbeat. Tyler looked to the backseat where Ethan was, seeing him with his head in his hands, subtly shaking in his nervous state.

“Ethan.” Tyler’s voice brought Ethan out of his funk, his head slowly peeking from behind his shielding hands. “Listen, it’ll be good practice, getting out on the field. We have a permit to be here to investigate it, so we won’t get in trouble.” Ok, maybe Tyler had made up that last part, but he didn’t want Ethan to worry and get them into trouble.

Ethan took in Tyler’s words, unaware of the silent conversation between Joanna and Tyler, before taking a breath and saying, “Okay, let’s go.”

“That’s the spirit!” Ethan and Tyler shared a concerned look as Joanna got out of the car. They were both thinking the same thing. ‘Joanna was being way to cheerful about this.’ Nevertheless, they exited the car not long after Joanna did and entered the cracking gates, careful not to break it too much. Joanna confidently trudged through the overgrown grass and onto the stone path leading to the decaying doors. Upon approaching the doors, she automatically rubbed her hands four times, knocked three times, turned the doorknob two times, then actually entered.

“Um, Cruse? What the hell was that,” Tyler questioned, quickening his pace so he was directly next to Joanna, keeping note of her stuttered steps after hearing his question. Ethan approached her as well, watching her struggle to give them a straight answer before settling for rolling her eyes and telling them to follow her as she easily navigated the maze of a house (Tyler was going have to ask her about that too). Tyler merely sighed and walked into the room, completely done with wondering about Joanna’s personal shit.

Before Joanna and Ethan could catch up with Tyler in the room where the victim was last placed (the team was unable to move the body in fear of causing more damage and accidentally pulling off another finger), they were stopped by a loud voice booming throughout the house. 

“HEY! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE!” Joanna instinctively drew her gun and pushed Ethan behind her, pointing her weapon in the direction of the approaching voice and footsteps. “This is a crime scene! You better pray to God I don’t find you or I’ll lock you up myself!” A man wearing a detective outfit that looked straight out of a 1930’s detective movie stepped out, immediately spotting Joanna and pulled out his own gun, pointing it at the two. “I’m not gonna tell you again, put your weapon down, now.”

Ethan looked to Joanna silently pleading for her to listen to the man holding a weapon with much better accuracy than her standard Glock 22, but Joanna didn’t even spare him a glance as she cocked her gun and put her finger on the trigger, causing Ethan to sigh and take a few half-steps back. “What the hell gives you the right to tell me what to do?” The man reached into his tan trenchcoat, causing Joanna to put a little more pressure on the trigger. She released the pressure, slightly, when he revealed a familiar-looking badge before placing it back in his coat.

“I’m LAPD, homicide detective. Now put your weapon down.” He placed his finger on the trigger when Joanna reached for her own badge, showing the man. 

“I’m LAPD too, homicide. I’m here to investigate a recent murder.” Lightning struck and thunder crashed, but Joanna barely responded, merely tensing her shoulders but quickly relaxing. The other detective, his reaction was seemingly exaggerated greatly. His gun stayed poised as he staggered backwards, his body shaking while his head shot place to place, like he was trying to see something or someone. His breathing visibly picked up and he sneered in pain, placing his head in his free hand trying to calm himself down.

Ethan and Joanna looked at each other in confusion. Joanna focused back on the supposed detective and approached his slowly, putting her hands up. “You okay?” The man’s head shot up, eyes wild as he pointed his shaking gun back at Joanna. She stopped in her tracks before backing up a few steps.

“Detective.”

Tyler’s worried voice broke the tense air, gaining the attention of the three people in the room, the man’s eyes lighting up in recognition.

“Benjamin,” the man sighed, placing his gun back in his holster and taking his hat off. “I never thought I’d say this, but it’s damn good too see you.” He approached Tyler, ignoring Ethan and Joanna who stared at him in complete confusion. He grabbed Tyler’s hand and shook it, before giving him his hat.

Tyler stood there for a brief second before simply turning his hand a dropping the hat, staring the man directly in the eyes. He turned to Joanna saying, “Detective, we have a problem.”

“What’s wrong Tyler?” The man turned to Joanna with the most dumbfounded look on his face, then back to Tyler, then to Ethan who was staring at him like he was crazy. Tyler gestured for them to follow him and they all entered the room, the two detectives silently questioning why they were entering the room, before returning their attention to the body, or rather, where the body should have been.

“The body’s fucking gone.”


	5. The Revelation

Joanna Cruse has seen some shit during her years as a homicide detective, but this one had to take the cake.

The sheet that was previously covering the body was peeled back and showing the white tape outline where the body should have been, the sheet slowly gathering up the leftover blood left on the floor. Joanna moved her head slightly to the left and saw that the finger was still there, laying on the ground surrounded by more tape.

What the three failed to notice was the fourth in the room staring at the empty outline, remembering things he locked away years ago. His hand shook as he approached the outline, quickly stepping over the yellow tape and crouching down next to the body’s former residence. He started moving his hand towards the pool of blood left untampered with when a dark hand shot out to grab his. He jerked his head towards the woman currently pulling him into a standing position, asserting her authority over his towering frame.

“And what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The Detective raised an eyebrow at her question, quickly gesturing to the blood.

“I was checking to see if the blood was recent or not. Oh, my apologies, did you want to do the honors?” His voice took a sarcastic light at the end, stepping to the side and motioning his arms towards the body. Joanna narrowed her eyes.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.” Ethan and Tyler stepped forward, the former setting his equipment down and handing the latter a pair of gloves, telling him to get some more samples before standing up and joining Joanna, while the latter stood for a moment before shaking his head in annoyance and crouching back down.

“Were you honestly about to tamper with evidence, on purpose?” Ethan questioned slightly amused at his complete idiocy, before sighing and rejoining Tyler to continue their examination of the missing corpse when Joanna shot him a look. Joanna cut the detective off before he could speak, first putting her hand up, then turning it over palm up.

“Give me your badge. After a stunt like that I think I’m obligated to see if your actually a homicide detective or not.” The detective narrowed his eyes before stubbornly agreeing and reaching into his pocket and handing it to Joanna, hand hesitating as his eyes fogged over, then placing it in Joanna’s awaiting hand.

She opened the badge, noting extremely quickly the long row of pictures unfolding and nearly touching the ground. She looked up to the man, seeing how he stared at the pictures with hidden sadness. She moved her head back to the badge, eyes following after, then started examining it. It didn’t take long to note some really obvious differences. The eagle at the top was one significant difference on his badge, as well as the heart-like shape it had as opposed to the standard oval shape hers had. Considering the badge was redesigned circa 1940s, that left one piece of evidence way crazier than the missing body.

“This badge is from the 1930s.”

Tyler and Ethan’s head shot up in alarm, both approaching Joanna for what seemed to be the millionth time today in order to examine the man’s badge for themselves, the man rolling his eyes in exasperation.

“You say that like it was decades ago.” The Detective saw Joanna’s eyes slowly move up to his, eyebrows furrowing and head twitching slightly.

“What the fuck are you on? The 30’s were eighty years ago.” The second part was spoken slowly, like how you would speak to a small child. She watched as the man’s face contort into multiple emotions, from disbelief, to confusion, to shock, and finally landing on fear. He walked backwards a few steps, hand quickly latching onto his head. He started mumbling to himself, Joanna only hearing “not possible” and “few months” before he froze, not a single muscle moving. His chest stopped, his eyes locked, and his clothes remained exactly the same as a warm breeze flew in from god knows where. Suddenly, as Joanna was stepping forward to make sure he was okay, he started breathing again and his face changed to indifference in the blink of an eye as he removed his hand and straightened his back while adjusting his coat.

Only then did he seem to remember the other three in the room, who were all staring at him in concern. The woman, Detective Cruse, was mouthing something. After a second, the words starting fading to full volume. “Sir? Sir! Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine. And call me Abe, please.” He stuck his hand out, completely ignoring the previous events. Joanna was taken aback at his change of state in mere seconds, but nevertheless took his hand and firmly shook it.

“I’m Detective Cruse. This is Ethan Nestor,” she unlatched her hand and rigidly gestured to the man behind her who looked no older than sixteen. He waved his hand awkwardly, worry still etched on his face. Abe nodded his head at him. “And this is Tyler Scheid,” Cruse gestured to the other man, who bore a striking resemblance to someone Abe knew a lifetime ago. Abe inclined his head yet again, while Tyler returned the gesture, his face back to its normal stone-like way. Abe turned back to Detective Cruse who was holding his badge, staring at one picture in particular with concerned eyes. 

Abe grabbed the badge from Cruse, whose eyes shot to him changing from concern to anger. She took a breath and calmed down before looking to the entrance, eyes not meeting Abe’s as she spoke.

“Let’s get you back to the department. I have some questions for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Just know that I may not upload too much because I have homework and stuff, but kudos and comments are appreciated! Thanks!


End file.
